Random Stories, WWE style
by ruthieelz
Summary: My collection of different random stories, except its the WWE version. Warning: Extreme sarcasm, OOC, and randomness are in these stories. And slash. MalexMale . There are multiple pairings. I take requests. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**This is exactly like my Yugioh Random Stories, but this time, it's WWE. **

**Title: Random Stories(WWE Version)**

**Rating: T for some language. **

**Summary: My collection of different random stories, except its the WWE version. **

**Warning: Extreme sarcasm, OOC, and randomness are in these stories. And slash. (MalexMale)  
**

**Pairings: CM Punk/Chris Jericho and many more. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It all started when our predictably heroic hero, CM Punk, woke up in a bush. It was the fifth time it had happened. Feeling exceedingly frustrated, CM Punk grabbed a carrot, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). Ever so extemperaneously, he realized that his beloved iPad was missing! Immediately he called his favorite Mormon, Chris Jericho. CM Punk had known Chris Jericho for (plus or minus) 11,000 years, the majority of which were striking ones. Chris Jericho was unique. He was clever though sometimes a little... selfish. CM Punk called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Chris Jericho picked up to a very happy CM Punk. Chris Jericho calmly assured him that most long-haired sea monkeys yawn before mating, yet South American hissing sloths usually wildly sigh after mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting CM Punk. Why was Chris Jericho trying to distract CM Punk? Because he had snuck out from CM Punk's with the iPad only two days prior. It was a striking little iPad... how could he resist?

It didn't take long before CM Punk got back to the subject at hand: his iPad. Chris Jericho belched. Relunctantly, Chris Jericho invited him over, assuring him they'd find the iPad. CM Punk grabbed his hammock and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Chris Jericho realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the iPad and he had to do it skillfully. He figured that if CM Punk took the amphibious vehicle, he had take at least eight minutes before CM Punk would get there. But if he took the Segway? Then Chris Jericho would be abundantly screwed.

Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, Chris Jericho was interrupted by seven oafish marmots that were lured by his iPad. Chris Jericho yawned; 'Not again', he thought. Feeling puzzled, he aimlessly reached for his potato and recklessly poked every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent-the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the swamp, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the Segway rolling up. It was CM Punk.

-o0o-

As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Seven-Eleven to pick up a 12-pack of dangerous oil-soaked rags, so he knew he was running late. With a calculated leap, CM Punk was out of the Segway and went flamboyantly jaunting toward Chris Jericho's front door. Meanwhile inside, Chris Jericho was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the iPad into a box of carrots and then slid the box behind his hammock. Chris was concerned but at least the iPad was concealed. The doorbell rang.

"Come in," Chris Jericho indiscriminately purred. With a mighty push, CM Punk opened the door.

"Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some funny-smelling coke fiend in a wannabe go-fast Civic," he lied. 'It's fine,' Chris assured him. CM Punk took a seat ridiculously unclose to where Chris had hidden the iPad. Chris sighed trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted. But CM Punk was distracted. A few unfulfilled decades later, Chris noticed a funny-smelling look on CM Punk's face. CM Punk slowly opened his mouth to speak.

'..."What's that smell?"

Chris Jericho felt a stabbing pain in his crotch when CM Punk asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the iPad right by his oven. "'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!"

A lie. A oafish look started to form on CM Punk's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. "Th-th-those are just my grandma's bananas from when she used to have pet long-haired sea monkeys. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier".

CM Punk nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Chris could react, CM Punk skillfully lunged toward the box and opened it. The iPad was plainly in view.

CM Punk stared at Jericho for what what must've been eleven nanoseconds. Duly ecstatic about the looming crises, Chris groped himself indiscriminately in CM Punk's direction, clearly desperate. CM Punk grabbed the iPad and bolted for the door. It was locked. Chris let out a electric chuckle. "If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, CM Punk," he rebuked.

Chris Jericho always had been a little annoying, so CM Punk knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Chris Jericho did something crazy, like... start chucking wolverines at him or something. Giggling like schoolgirl, he gripped his iPad tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.

Chris Jericho looked on, blankly. "What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know."

Silence from CM Punk. "And to think, I varnished that window frame six days ago...it never ends!"

Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for CM Punk. "Oh. You ..okay?" Still silence. Chris Jericho walked over to the window and looked down. CM Punk was gone.

-o0o-

Just yonder, CM Punk was struggling to make his way through the swamp behind Jericho's place. CM Punk had severely hurt his shin during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral marmots suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the iPad. One by one they latched on to CM Punk. Already weakened from his injury, CM Punk yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of marmots running off with his iPad.

About eight hours later, CM Punk awoke, his double chin throbbing. It was dark and CM Punk did not know where he was. Deep in the arid imaginery desert, CM Punk was really lost. Like a drunken sailor at happy hour, he remembered that his iPad was taken by the marmots. But at that point, he was just thankful for his life.

That's when, to his horror, a bloated marmot emerged from the bush. It was the alpha marmot. CM Punk opened his mouth to scream but was cut short when the marmot sunk its teeth into CM Punk's love handle. With a faint groan, the life escaped from CM Punk's lungs, but not before he realized that he was a failure.

Less than eleven miles away, Chris Jericho was entombed by anguish over the loss of the iPad. "MY PRECIOUS!" he cried, as he reached for a sharpened live hand grenade.

With a apt thrust, he buried it deeply into his shin. As the room began to fade to black, he thought about CM Punk... wishing he had found the courage to tell him that he loved him. But he would die alone that day. All that remained was the iPad that had turned them against each other, ultimately causing their demise. And as the dew on melancholy sappling branches began to reflect the dawn's reddish glare, all that could be heard was the chilling cry of distant marmots, desecrating all things sacred to virtuous men, and perpetuating an evil that would reign for centuries to come. Our heroes would've lived unhappily ever after, but they were too busy being dead.

So, no one lived forever after, the end.

* * *

**Well, what did you think? I will take requests for different pairings. Leave them in my PM box.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's another chapter! This one has a hint of Cenaton.**

**Pairing: John Cena/Randy Orton**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It all started when our antagonizing protagonist, John Cena, woke up in a imaginery desert. It was the tenth time it had happened. Feeling barely frustrated, John Cena grabbed a wolverine, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). In a tragically predictable turn of events, he realized that his beloved iPad was missing! Immediately he called his redheaded stepchild of a 'friend', Randy Orton. John Cena had known Randy Orton for 6 years, the majority of which were sassy ones. Randy Orton was unique. He was charismatic though sometimes a little... annoying. John Cena called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Randy Orton picked up to a very unhappy John Cena. Randy Orton calmly assured him that most 3-legged wallabies yawn before mating, yet South American hissing sloths usually earnestly sneeze *after* mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting John Cena. Why was Randy Orton trying to distract John Cena? Because he had snuck out from John Cena's with the iPad only five days prior. It was a striking little iPad... how could he resist?

It didn't take long before John Cena got back to the subject at hand: his iPad. Randy Orton belched. Relunctantly, Randy Orton invited him over, assuring him they'd find the iPad. John Cena grabbed his time machine and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Randy Orton realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the iPad and he had to do it aggressively. He figured that if John Cena took the 'modded' Civic, he had take at least five minutes before John Cena would get there. But if he took the Segway? Then Randy Orton would be scarcely screwed.

Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, Randy Orton was interrupted by ten oafish marmots that were lured by his iPad. Randy Orton sneezed; 'Not again', he thought.

Feeling puzzled, he randomly reached for his dangerous oil-soaked rag and randomly backhanded every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent-the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the haunted thicket, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the Segway rolling up. It was John Cena.

-o0o-

As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Seven-Eleven to pick up a 12-pack of carrots, so he knew he was running late. With a careful leap, John Cena was out of the Segway and went exotically jaunting toward Randy Orton's front door.

Meanwhile inside, Randy Orton was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the iPad into a box of dull pencils and then slid the box behind his refrigerator. Randy Orton was concerned but at least the iPad was concealed. The doorbell rang.

'Come in,' Randy Orton flamboyantly purred. With a deft push, John Cena opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some dimwitted noble genius in a neighborhood-terrorizing crotch rocket,' he lied.

'It's fine,' Randy Orton assured him. John Cena took a seat nearby where Randy Orton had hidden the iPad. Randy Orton turned red trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted.

But John Cena was distracted. Before the all-seeing eyes of a perpetually displeased diety, Randy Orton noticed a annoying look on John Cena's face. John Cena slowly opened his mouth to speak.

'...What's that smell?'

Randy Orton felt a stabbing pain in his kidney when John Cena asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the iPad right by his wrestling trunks. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A stupid look started to form on John Cena's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. '

Th-th-those are just my grandma's live hand grenades from when she used to have pet venomous koalas. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. John Cena nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Randy Orton could react, John Cena deftly lunged toward the box and opened it. The iPad was plainly in view.

John Cena stared at Randy Orton for what what must've been eleven nanoseconds. Just as zero people expected Randy Orton groped wildly in John Cena's direction, clearly desperate. John Cena grabbed the iPad and bolted for the door. It was locked. Randy Orton let out a enchanting chuckle.

'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, John Cena,' he rebuked. Randy Orton always had been a little insensitive, so John Cena knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Randy Orton did something crazy, like... start chucking ninja stars at him or something. Heart filled with earnest fortitude, he gripped his iPad tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.

Randy Orton looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from John Cena. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame seven days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for John Cena. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Randy Orton walked over to the window and looked down. John Cena was gone.

-o0o-

Just yonder, John Cena was struggling to make his way through the magical cornfield behind Randy Orton's place. John Cena had severely hurt his fingernail during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral marmots suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the iPad. One by one they latched on to John Cena. Already weakened from his injury, John Cena yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of marmots running off with his iPad.

But then God came down with His outgoing smile and restored John Cena's iPad. Feeling displeased, God smote the marmots for their injustice. Then He got in His noise-polluting import and dashed away with the fortitude of 2,000 Indonesian devil cats running from a enormous pack of spotted wolf hamsters. John Cena stumbled with joy when he saw this. His iPad was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in eleven minutes his favorite TV show, Two and a Half Men, was going to come on (followed immediately by 'When 3-legged wallabies meet bloody glove'). John Cena was contented. And so, everyone except Randy Orton and a few malaria-toting legless puppies lived blissfully happy, forever after. Although to this day, John Cena would blush whenever Randy's name was mentioned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Requested by slashlover27! Enjoy!**

* * *

It all started when our predictably heroic protagonist, Kofi Kingston, woke up in a haunted thicket. It was the ninth time it had happened. Feeling scarcely pleased, Kofi Kingston attacked a carrot, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). In a blinding moment of misguided bravado,he realized that his beloved WWE Championship was missing!

Immediately he called his favorite Mormon, CM Punk. Kofi Kingston had known CM Punk for 11,000 years, the majority of which were saucy ones. CM Punk was unique. He was ingenious though sometimes a little... selfish. Kofi Kingston called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.

CM Punk picked up to a very happy Kofi Kingston. CM Punk calmly assured him that most Indonesian devil cats cringe before mating, yet man-eating capybaras usually wildly grimace after mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting Kofi Kingston. Why was CM Punk trying to distract Kofi Kingston?

Because he had snuck out from Kofi Kingston's with the WWE Championship only four days prior. It was a enticing little WWE Championship... how could he resist?

It didn't take long before Kofi Kingston got back to the subject at hand: his WWE Championship. CM Punk sighed. Relunctantly, CM Punk invited him over, assuring him they'd find the WWE Championship. Kofi Kingston grabbed his giraffe and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, CM Punk realized that he was in trouble.

He had to find a place to hide the WWE Championship and he had to do it randomly. He figured that if Kofi Kingston took the nappy, busted-out hatchback, he had take at least eight minutes before Kofi Kingston would get there. But if he took the ferarri? Then CM Punk would be really screwed.

Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, CM Punk was interrupted by seven dimwitted tortoises that were lured by his WWE Championship. CM Punk panicked; 'Not again', he thought.

Feeling exasperated, he aimlessly reached for his ninja star and fearlessly stroked every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent-the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the haunted thicket, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the ferarri rolling up. It was Kofi Kingston.

-o0o-

As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Egg Roll King to pick up a 12-pack of potatos, so he knew he was running late. With a calculated leap, Kofi Kingston was out of the ferarri and went wildly jaunting toward CM Punk's front door. Meanwhile inside, CM Punk was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the WWE Championship into a box of potatos and then slid the box behind his giraffe. CM Punk was concerned but at least the WWE Championship was concealed. The doorbell rang.

'Come in,' CM Punk explosively purred. With a quick push, Kofi Kingston opened the door.

'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some annoying coke fiend in a Jap Trap,' he lied.

'It's fine,' CM Punk assured him.

Kofi Kingston took a seat about two saucy furlongs from where CM Punk had hidden the WWE Championship. CM Punk yawned trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness.

'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted. But Kofi Kingston was distracted. A few unsatisfying minutes later, CM Punk noticed a funny-smelling look on Kofi Kingston's face. Kofi Kingston slowly opened his mouth to speak.

'...What's that smell?'

CM Punk felt a stabbing pain in his kidney when Kofi Kingston asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the WWE Championship right by his oscillating fan.

'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A insensitive look started to form on Kofi Kingston's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place.

'Th-th-those are just my grandma's dangerous oil-soaked rags from when she used to have pet legless puppies. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Kofi Kingston nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before CM Punk could react, Kofi Kingston thoughtfully lunged toward the box and opened it. The WWE Championship was plainly in view.

Kofi Kingston stared at CM Punk for what what must've been three hours. Duly ecstatic about the looming crises, CM Punk groped scandalously in Kofi Kingston's direction, clearly desperate. Kofi Kingston grabbed the WWE Championship and bolted for the door. It was locked. CM Punk let out a striking chuckle.

'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Kofi Kingston,' he rebuked. CM Punk always had been a little dimwitted, so Kofi Kingston knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before CM Punk did something crazy, like... start chucking ninja stars at him or something. Ever so extemperaneously, he gripped his WWE Championship tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.

CM Punk looked on, blankly.

'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Kofi Kingston.

'And to think, I varnished that window frame two days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for Kofi Kingston. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. CM Punk walked over to the window and looked down. Kofi Kingston was gone.

-o0o-

Just yonder, Kofi Kingston was struggling to make his way through the lemur-infested moor behind CM Punk's place. Kofi Kingston had severely hurt his ear during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral tortoises suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the WWE Championship.

One by one they latched on to Kofi Kingston. Already weakened from his injury, Kofi Kingston yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of tortoises running off with his WWE Championship.

But then God came down with His charismatic smile and restored Kofi Kingston's WWE Championship. Feeling frustrated, God smote the tortoises for their injustice. Then He got in His Jap Trap and blasted away with the fortitude of 200,000 3-legged wallabies running from a bloated pack of albino cats.

Kofi Kingston jumped with joy when he saw this. His WWE Championship was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in ten minutes his favorite TV show, Pawn Stars, was going to come on (followed immediately by 'When albino cats meet rusty razor blade'). Kofi Kingston was elated. And so, everyone except CM Punk and a few rusty razor blade-toting disease-carrying chipmunks lived blissfully happy, forever after.


End file.
